The Encounters of Ice and Flames
by Sheatana
Summary: Reyna Mustang was hired as Seto Kaiba's new secretary, only being expected to last a month or two. Who would ever know she would change his world. Kaiba/OCish NOT A MARY SUE!
1. Chapter 1

The lobby area was rather desolate, sparingly adorned in two leather black chairs for those who were confined to the reception area to be made comfortable. It was spacious, a vast desert of Italian marble, seamed together by gold. Occasionally, a random worker would scurry by, paying no heed to the impeccably dressed woman seated in one of the duo of chairs. The receptionist would flicker her eyes toward the woman, large emerald eyes glimmering in pity. The woman would glare in return; her sapphires clearly betrayed that she neither wanted nor needed the attention. The receptionist quickly averted her attention back to the mountains of tedious paperwork. The phone unexpectedly buzzed, the receptionist's hands perfunctorily snatching the disturbance from its cradle. She listened for a moment, casting a bored look at the woman, motioning with her hand to go to the elevator.

"Top floor."

The woman rose wordlessly, straightening her black skirt. Taking powerful long strides, she made her way to the shaft, not displaying the impatience that she felt as it crawled lazily toward her floor. The doors opened, and she wasted no time entering and punching the floor button. she was not surprised by the lack of music as the car rose thirty-seven floors to the top of the massive tower. She would not have been surprised if there had been a voice chanting "Get back to work" over the intercom.

There were no stops. No one jumping on and off. She took deep steadying breaths, fortifying herself for the scrutiny she was about to undergo. It had been said that there was no one quite as tough as the man she was going to see. There was no one quite as cold and strict. She doubted the verity of that statement. True, he was a rich, cold, heartless, bastard, but she couldn't conjure one businessman who wasn't. She guessed that his previous employees had been young, beautiful women, whose thoughts were more focused on getting him into bed than doing their jobs. Besides, she was not an ordinary woman. She was strong, smart, and, in her mind, average beauty wise. Her womanly curves were small, overpowered by the leanly muscled arms and back. When in the office, it was nearly impossible to tell that she had breasts; they were nicely camouflaged by the button-up dress shirts and blazers. Her legs were long, seemingly miles, muscles perfectly displayed in the heels. Her deep mahogany hair was swept neatly back into a perfect bun. Her facial features were strong but feminine, pale face set afire by intense Caribbean Seas. She continued to study her reflection in the stainless steel doors until they slid sideways, unveiling a once meticulously kept office space that had been recently vacated. The cherry wood desk was situated facing the doors, being the first sight to greet those daring to venture into the high quarters. An expensive black leather office chair was positioned behind, to the right of thick double cherry doors. She took one last deep breath before entering the world she would hopefully be working in.

Seto Kaiba growled distastefully as he sat behind his desk, aimlessly staring at the screen of his computer. Numerous reports lay forgotten and unread all across the desk, silently telling the tale of the hell that had taken place in the office throughout the day. There had been several interviews with women who all thought that they could serve as the young CEO's secretary. Kaiba had been looking for a particular type of woman, secretly hoping that an elder one would come along so he could escape the goggling stares of the younger generation. However, he had no such luck. It seemed that every fan girl in Domino had shown up for the interviews, and in doomed desperation and frustration, Kaiba had decided that no matter who the interviewee was, he would hire. If he didn't like, he would just make her life a living hell. That was the way it always worked. That was how the last ten secretaries had quit. Kaiba smirked as he thought of all the misery they had been put through, grimacing as he remembered all the hell that they had done unto him first.

It was a small surprise when a light, polite knock came at his door. True, he had just called down to the lobby receptionist, telling her to send the next contestant to his sky haven, but it had been a while since one actually had the manners to knock before entering. He approved already, gruffly calling for whoever was waiting to enter. The doors slowly moved, its occupant almost causing Kaiba to drop his jaw.

She was professionally attired in an expensive black suit and white linen shirt. The top two buttons were undone, revealing a small sliver of her chest for feminine appeal. She confidently strode forward, head regally held in a slightly superior manner, extending her hand to him. He took, mentally noting the strength in her grip, not crushing, but not submissive.

"Mr. Kaiba, I'm Reyna Mustang," she stated, releasing his hand. "I have come to interview for your job opening."

He grunted. "I know. Sit."

He wasted no more time with pleasantries, having already spent too much time with the woman. "Why do want this job?"

"I think that I can be of great service to you. I'm organized, efficient, hard-working, and loyal."

"That's nice. Why do you _need _this job."

"College," she answered without hesitation. "I'm going to med school, and need to pay the bills."

_Simple, and to the point,_ he thought. _She knows I have no time to waste._ "Fine, you're hired. You conform to my schedule, not the other way around. There are some occasions that you will be expected to attend after work and even trips that you will be expected to go on. Do not fraternize with any other employee. You will be at your desk at seven a.m. sharp, no later. You leave when you're finished, but not before five. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"You start tomorrow."

She rose, extending her hand once more. "Thank you, sir. I look forward to working with you."

"Good, now get out."

She nodded silently, not needing another warning to exit the man's sight line. Once the doors closed, Kaiba nodded to himself. He had made a good decision. On the other side of the room, now patiently waiting for the elevator to once again meander to her level, Reyna Mustang was wondering if she had made a bad one.


	2. Chapter 2

Reyna thrust open the door to her apartment, unceremoniously discarding her body in the waiting arms of her couch. A deep sigh gushed from her lips as she buried her head beneath the throw pillows reflecting on her first day as the secretary of Seto Kaiba.  
She had been early, bustling alertly about while the seasoned workers drug themselves into the office bleary-eyed and zombie-like. She had made a pot of hot coffee, figuring that her new boss would be craving the strong liquid. She tucked a copy of the Wall Street Journal on the corner of her desk, not caring that her actions were blatant ingratiation, which had worked beautifully. Kaiba had strode in as she was neatly arranging her office space to her liking, dropped a slip of paper onto her desk dictating the username and password to her system, snatched both The Journal and a mug of coffee before storming into his seclusion, slamming the door in his wake. She had smiled to herself, stretching her long body comfortably in her chair.  
But that was the only thing that had occurred in accordance with her plan. The remainder of the day was spent answering phone calls, deeming which ones were important enough to pass to her boss, and if she misjudged the importance of one, he would rant, rave, and, on the rare occasion that it really was someone that he did not want to know still existed, throw readily available objects at her. He had never managed to hit her, but she suspected that he was not trying to. Several employees timidly stepped off the elevator, looking extremely relieved that they could give their reports to her to pass along as opposed to directly handing it to the dragon master himself.  
By lunch time, she was exhausted but was determinedly enduring every bit of torture the job was casting her direction. She never had the opportunity to dine, for the phone seemed to never cease its shrill ringing, and Kaiba refused to leave the confines of his office. She lost count of the number of cups of coffee she consumed, but she knew that she made three pots. Occasionally she would take another mug in to Kaiba, who grunted an inaudible reply, presumably of thanks. She had been growled at on more than one occasion during the day. She could see the shift in his demeanor slowly progressing during the course of the afternoon. He had been annoyed when the day started, shifting to angry toward noon, and finally, as five o'clock began to draw nearer, he managed to combine the two, resulting in an extremely disagreeable, difficult to cope with male. Reyna's day extended into the seventh hour of the afternoon before she finally admitted defeat. She politely knocked on Kaiba's door, poking her head through the small opening.  
"You're still here?" he questioned, not bothering to hide his amazement.  
"Your phone is still constantly ringing, but I'm sorry, sir, I really need to go home. Is there anything else that you need me to do?"  
"No," he curtly replied returning to his computer, sighing as he heard the door return to its shut position. He leaned back in his chair, wondering if he would see the young woman again tomorrow.  
As Reyna lay motionless on her couch, she wondered whether the exceptional pay was worth the suffering and torture.  
One month later  
Reyna was lounging on her couch after yet another very long day at the office. True she had elected to continue her sadistic occupation, causing a large string of headaches to ensue, but she knew her bank account truly enjoyed the finer points of her job. It had actually become much easier to cope with the adverse encounters of Kaiba and the demanding business heads as they trampled her in order to obtain a moment of the young CEO's time. She was learning to be overly aggressive and firm, even in the face of the most prominent head. Kaiba supported her if it allowed him the luxury of a few moments of quiet.  
Her phone rang, causing her to unconsciously grimace; her hands now snatching the phone as perfunctorily as the receptionist she had encountered on her interview date. Her mind questioned the identity of the caller, since she had not been feeding her once blossoming social life. There were only a select few that even obtained her new number, but none had ever called. Warily, she questioned, "Hello?"  
"Hellooo, Mustang," a slurred, familiar voice greeted.  
The girls eyes widened, mouth being overtaken by the force of gravity, creating a gaping cavern. "Mr. Kaiba!"  
"That's me," he replied, voice light, almost silly. "I need you to come to my house. Now."  
"Um, Mr. Kaiba, are you drunk?"  
"Nooooo…"  
"Sir?"  
"I swear to drunk, I'm not god. I just need you…."  
"I beg you pardon?  
"… to review stuff."  
"All right, Mr. Kaiba, I'll be there in a few minutes."  
"Thank ye, thank ye, my fair maiden."  
She hesitantly replaced the appliance on the cradle, eyes contorted in confusion and disturbance. Kaiba was indeed extremely creepy when he was drunk.

She arrived at the Kaiba mansion looking slightly disheveled in her haste to look acceptable. By business standards, there were women on street corners in downtown Domino more acceptably attired than her. She had rummaged about her unkempt apartment, tossing mountains of soiled garments to the way side, opting for a wrinkled pair of navy yoga pants. Her white tank top was equally if not more furrowed. Her hair loosely hung kinked from her day bun, face devoid of all cosmetic products. She consciously fidgeted with the state of her garments, smoothing the material in vain, as she knocked lightly on the door, her mind praying that Kaiba had passed out somewhere in the mansion. To her disappointment, the door opened, revealing a petrified maid. The maid eyed the woman for a moment, cringing at the appearance of her clothes, before almost crying in joy as she identified the visitor.  
"Oh! Thank goodness you have come! He's been a raving lunatic for the past hour! He keeps asking for you, but forgets it seconds later! Take these!" the maid exclaimed, thrusting at least a dozen sets of keys into her unwilling hands. "Do not let him get his hands on these! He's all yours!"  
With that, the maid weaseled her way past the stunned secretary, sprinting down the steps and sloping lawn. Reyna watched in a stupor as the woman desperately fled from the premises. /Could he really be that bad/ she thought, redirecting her gaze to the myriad of keys barely contained in her two hands. /Good idea./ She sighed, traipsing into the entryway, snapping the door shut. The sounds echoed loudly, and she looked around to see if a living soul had heard the noise. There was silence for several moments before and inaudible yelling commenced, resonating from somewhere in the upper floors. Unenthusiastically, she drug her protesting feet to the spiral stairwell, exerting even more effort to climb to the top. The yelling was persisting, effectively aiding her in the search of the source. She stopped outside of a large white door on the third floor hallway, bracing herself for the sight that might extend its welcome to her. Her hand shakily touched the doorknob, turning it slightly, clenching her jaw. Her nerve failed her then, so she stood like that for several moments before she felt the door being cleaved from her clutch.  
"Hiya, Mustang!"  
"Oh boy," was all she could as she took in the man's appearance.  
His hair was sticking up in random intervals, and others were plastered to his forehead. His tie was tossed across his shoulder, still securely fastened around his neck. All the buttons on his dress shirt were open, leaving his leanly muscled torso exposed to her sight. She had to shake her head slightly to draw attention away from the sight, allowing it to immediately refocus on the nearly empty bottle of liquor clutched loosely in his right palm. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words failed their release miserably when he took a pace forward, stumbling as he did so. His body's mass collided heavily with her own.  
"You smell good, Mudstang," he slurred.  
"Mudstang, sir?"  
"Yeah, I do dub thee Mudstang."  
"Where's your bedroom, sir?"  
"Ohhhh, Mudstang! What are you planning?"  
"To put you to bed so you can sleep off the goofy side effects and wake up your perfectly miserable, hung-over self. I truly hope that you don't remember anything tomorrow because I do not want to be on the receiving end of your anger."  
"Haha, I like you too much for that, Mudstang."  
"I'll remind you that you said that the next time that you throw something at me. Now, where's your bedroom?"  
"Second floor, fourth door on the left."  
/Great, I have to lug this useless hunk of man down the steps./ She grasped the man's thin waist tightly, awkwardly limping out of the confines of his personal office. Kaiba's head lolled to the side, banging lightly against hers. She was in disbelief that her boss would act like this at any point in his life, intoxicated beyond rational thinking levels or not. She sighed heavily, feeling an indescribable responsibility for his well being. She disregarded the feeling, concentrating solely on the task at hand.  
He gave her barely intelligible directions to his room. She was astonished that she had delivered the CEO to his room without tripping or introducing her face with the marble floor of the stairs. He was uncharacteristically attempting to assist her in every way he was capable of, but those were limited in number, mainly concentrating to the ability of the mouth. His directions proved to be a trying translating project. She was visibly pleased that she arrived at the entrance to his chamber and incredibly dazed as Kaiba tugged her into the room.  
She was taken aback by the décor of the chamber. The walls were bathed in a cerulean shade, sealed top and bottom in luminescent white. Numerous paintings of snarling dragons adorned the sides, the largest and most impressive situated above the bed, protecting the cradle's occupants at their most vulnerable time. She recognized the subject as Duel Monster's Blue Eyes White Dragon, nearly smacking her cranium as she recalled her boss's favorite card. Other than the depictions of the beasts, there were no other photographs in the room, no personal mementos. In fact, the chamber was devoid of much else, the only other pieces of furniture being a desk and an office chair by the window. The moonlight poured uncontrollably through the monstrous windowpane, bathing the area in an angelic tone. It was immediately overpowered by artificial light as she flicked the switch. She noticed a door, cleaved open a fraction to reveal black, smooth tile and countertops.  
"Hey, Mudstang," Kaiba started, voice wavering in a new uncertainty. "I don't feel so hot."  
She blanched. "Let's get you out of your business clothes. Those are probably dry clean only."  
"Hey, now," he began again, hands tugging the material of shirt. "Don't think that I'm not on to you."  
"Sir," she almost growled, batting his hands away from the shirt, hers taking their place. "Allow me before you choke yourself trying to get that tie off."  
"You know, you could take a lot of advantage from this… Here I be, drunk out of my mind, practically hitting on you, and no way of stopping myself. You could have me anyway you wanted…"  
"Sir, you should be more worried about me blackmailing you when this is over. Besides, drunkenness is not a turn on."  
He laughed, causing her head to snap to attention. Her eyes widened even more when she noticed a genuine smile playing across his lips. He looked very handsome like that, at ease and carefree, even if there were bums on the street in better mental shape than him at the moment. Her mind could not recall the arrogant jerk that had tested her patience that morning. He seemed so natural, so normal, but the putrid stench of alcohol disrupted the moment. His brows furrowed, mouth clenching tightly. Her orbs widened a bit more.  
"Muds…"  
"I know, sir. Get into the bathroom, and try not to blow chunks all over the place."  
"No promises," he gasped out attempting to sprint into the said room.  
Reyna supported him, cushioning him as his knees gave out. Kaiba was able to sustain his position bowing over the porcelain goddess. Moments later, retching sounds echoed through the lavatory, and she turned away from the fallen man as he put on a vulnerable display. She did not understand why she was here. He certainly was too far intoxicated to remember half of the events that night, but still here she was, in her boss's bathroom, listening as he emptied the content of his stomach. The sounds ceased, but there was no movement to suggest he was making a move to rise. She turned to face him, finding that he had moved to sitting position by the toilet. She moved over, pulling him to an upright stance. The pair limped back into the main room.  
"Shite," Kaiba swore, staring down at his expensive black pants, now slightly splattered with excretions.  
"Let's get you out of these and into something that you can sleep in."  
"I can do it!" he exclaimed, batting her hands haphazarldy to the side, attmepting to remove the buttons on his pants.  
She stood, eyebrow quirked in amusement, watching the grown man as he protested in the same manner as a three-year old would. After several minutes of useless fumbling, "Ok, I could us some help," he whispered. She was still smirking lightly as she assisted him. There was a pair of black silk pajamas lying neatly folded on the bed. She took the liberty of pulling the material over his broad shoulder, hands sliding over his masculine chest. The sudden impulse to shove the man into the wall and claim his lips overtook her senses. There was some form of charisma floating about the ice blue orbs, one that she ignored during the daytime, but here, in the confines of the mansion, with both professional gaurds completely relaxed, she was allowed the luxury. She took a deep, steadying breath, clearing her mind of the erotic impulses that she was receiving.  
"You'd better get to bed, sir. Tomorrow you have a meeting first thing," she breathed shakily, praying that he would not notice.  
"Coool… hey, Mudstang, are you going be here in the morn?"  
"No, sir, I won't."  
"But, but, but who will take care of me and my hang over?"  
"I'll set everything up for you, and there are maids that can do that better than myself. Oh, by the way, I have about twelve of your car keys then, so remind me to return those."  
"Hehe, I don't care if you take one out for a spin, Muds. Maybe sometime we can take a spin in one together in the backseat."  
"Goodnight, sir," she curtly replied, ignoring the wiggling eyebrows.  
"Night, night, Muds."  
He rolled onto his, pulling the covers about his masculine body, drifting peacefully into a sleep. She sighed heavily, setting about the task preparing everything. She filled a small glass of water, placing two liquid capsules by it to be taken in the morning. She selected a very nice Armani grey suit with a shocking blue dress shirt, neatly piling everything in a folded manner before depositing a silver tie on top. She doused every light she could find, drawing the curtains shut on the windows. With one last glance at the slumbering form, nestled snugly into his bed, she swept out the door, nearly yelping in surprise when she came face-to-face with a teenager.  
"Who are you?" the boy asked, cocking his head slightly to the side.  
"My name is Reyna Mustang. I'm your brother's new secretary."  
"Wow, I'm impressed. You actually came out here. Most of them stay home, and he never remembers that he even called them. I'm glad you came: less mess for me to clean up."  
"He does this a lot?"  
"A fair amount. Personally, I like because he actually seems human when he's plastered, but somehow I get the feeling that you already knew that."  
"Yeah. I have to go home. I need some sleep."  
"Thanks for taking care of him," the teenager called out, long, shaggy midnight hair flipping behind his shoulder.  
Reyna nodded before disappearing into the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

Kaiba awoke to the shrill cry of his alarm clock, a war drum sounding in his head. His pain channeled to his hand as he smashed the clock. The silence was blessed. As he brought his arm back to the warmth of the comforter, his hand brushed a glass filled with water. His eyebrows contorted in confusion, his hand exploring more of the area. He found two pills nestled beside the glass. He could not recall putting them there, but he rarely remembered anything on the nights that he drank himself into the oblivion.

He quickly popped the two pills into his mouth, easing his swallowing with a hearty gulp of water. He reasoned that regardless of the nature of their contents, anything would be better than his current pain. He returned to his original position; his eyes stared blindly at the ceiling. He fought to recall what had occurred the previous evening, but the haze was thick. Abruptly, he blanched. One detail was emerging. He had called Mustang.

He glanced to the corner where his large leather chair stood. Carefully draped across the top was suit, perfectly matched and ready for wear. A deep groan escaped as he pondered what he may have said and done to his employee.

"You can relax," a voice called from the doorway. "Nothing too crazy happened. She was gone by two."

"What was I drinking?" the elder whined.

"Good question. Nasty stuff, basically. You had a bottle. You should really slow down on that stuff. You know Doc Joe says it doesn't take too long to destroy your liver. The only thing that you've got going for you is the fact that you're young, but I really don't want an alcoholic for a brother."

"I need to get moving. Long day at the office today."

With a respectful nod of his head, Mokuba swept from the entrance. He strode down the hallway, venturing to the kitchen to prepare his sibling some of Colombia's finest delicacy. A small smile crept slowly across the young man's countenance. He somehow knew that this new secretary would change his brother in more ways than one.

Reyna had drug herself forcibly and reluctantly from her bed that morning. Deep black rings betrayed the secrets of her nightly activities. It had taken her three coats of make-up to effectively guise them. Her usual swagger was absent as she dejectedly strode up the front steps of Kaiba Corps headquarters, and even the main secretary noticed the shift in demeanor. She judged that the woman would quit within the month.

On the top floor however, the girl preformed her normal office setup: a copy of the journal neatly tucked on the corner of the desk anchored by a steaming mug of coffee, ready for Kaiba to sweep up as he entered, and a pot of the dark fuel, kept at a constant blistering temperature, by the cherry office door. When her staging was finished, she collapsed in the large office chair, submitting to the ecstasy of comfort it gave. Her tired eyes scrutinized the clock as each digit changed.

Kaiba arrived later than usual, sporting the exact same defections as his secretary. He paused as passed her station, readying a harsh threat, but the daggers died on his lips. Her tired eyes, lined heavily with foundation, gazed at him emptily as though waiting for orders. It was the first fracture in her strength that he had seen, and somehow, for whatever reason, it struck him hard. He saw himself staring through those deadened sapphire eyes. A scoff was all the harshness that he could manage to dispense on the girl before storming into his office, slamming the door in his wake.

Behind the cherry barricade, he laced his coffee with a stiff alcohol from his private store. Once behind his massive desk, he relinquished the control of his muscles, allowing his head to collide with the desk. Pain blossomed from his forehead, but it almost seemed as though it were a remedy. _This is going to be a very long day_, his mind echoed.

Reyna was attempting not to doze between calls, which were surprisingly absent when compared to a normal day. Kaiba had not ventured from his sanctuary when lunch came, and the woman guessed that he had consumed nothing since lunch the day before. She ordered some random Italian food from a five star restaurant near by, despite the fact that it had taken her several minutes to convince the manager that she was indeed from Kaiba Corps. An hour later, the front desk secretary brought up the package of food, focusing on the ragged demeanor of the woman. A curt "thank you" was the only response Reyna had before ignoring her. Once she heard the elevator doors slide closed once more, the formality of her posture dissipated. She gathered the food she had ordered the boss, approaching the door with the caution of a dragon slayer. A soft knock echoed throughout the silent loft, followed closely by an unintelligible grumble, assumed to be permission to enter.

Reyna was taken aback as she entered. Kaiba had been attempting to stash a small bottle of whiskey in his desk drawer, but upon recognizing the woman, promptly returned it to the accessible location of his keyboard tray. She braced herself for a bombardment of traveling objects, but it was absent. Instead only the harmless lasers from the man's eyes were cast at her.

"I brought you food," she stated simply.

He merely grunted, returning his glare to his screen. She strode forward reluctantly, half afraid of the drunken executive. She arranged the meal neatly in his small spare space, replacing the spiked coffee with a bottle of sparkling water and two more pills. As she turned to leave, Kaiba's hand struck out, latching on to her wrist with viper speed. Startled, she tried to wretch her hand from the stronghold, but it refused to budge.

"I know you were at my mansion last night," he hissed, voice boiling in anger. "And I want you to know that, if you even think about exposing any events that happened last night, I will destroy you and bury you alive. I will not tolerate…"

"Mr. Kaiba, let go of my wrist."

His mouth dropped slightly hearing the strong reverberating calm in her voice. Eyes narrowed, his grip loosened, but he maintained the hold. He focused all of his excess frustration into his hatred into the glare.

"I am insulted to hear that you think that I would stoop that low," the strong voice whispered again after a pregnant pause. "I am not one of the others that you have previously employed; I have no ulterior agenda. The bills need paid, and regardless of how thinly stretched I feel, I will not jeopardize my only source of income. Now, sir, if you'll excuse me, I must return to work."

With that, she wretched her hand free, powerfully striding to the door and slamming it in her wake. The thud resounded unusually loud in the cold office. Kaiba's eyes remained on her previous spot, face still frozen in a stupor. Never had one of his employees dared to challenge his actions in any manner nor ever implied that he were in the wrong. And yet, this woman had done both without a moment's hesitation or regret. Indeed, he now knew that he had chosen wisely in his hiring of her. With a deep, contented sigh, he began picking at his meal, thinking desperately of a way to ask her forgiveness without an apology.

Her anger had not faded when the clock struck five. She began to clear her desk in the same fashion as the mass of employees on the lower levels was surely doing. Having finished her task, she straightened her suit haughtily and strode to the office door. She forwent the cursory knock, entering unannounced, alarming her unprepared, weary boss. She heightened herself as much as she could manage with what little strength the day had left her with, gazing down at him with the coldest gaze she could muster. He did not return the assault, but merely surveyed her with interest.

"I'm leaving for the night. I think that last night should count for some of today's hours," she stated plainly.

"You have no plans for Saturday evening, I trust?" he asked, refusing to acknowledge her speech.

She blinked rapidly, slightly shaking her fine head in confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

"Saturday evening, you have no plans," he stated again, eliminating the question.

"Sir, I hardly think that fraternizing would give either of us a good name."

"I'm not asking you out, Mustang. I have higher standards than that," he scolded harshly, causing a fresh anger to ripple in her eyes. "If you'll recall, it is part of your job to accompany me to events that I see fit. It so happens that one of my business alliances is holding his annual cancer fundraiser ball. You'll be attending with me."

"Don't you think this is a bit short notice? It is Wednesday."

"No. It's simple. There's no advanced planning necessary. The only thing that you have to do is to know who is going to be in attendance and whether I need to make a point to talk to them or have my security keep an eye on them."

"And you want me to know this by Saturday?"

"Yes. It's part of your job, so I see no reason for it to be an issue."

"Well, sir, I do. There is going to be at least 500 guests there. There is no way that I could possibly have enough time to memorize all of the names."

"Then memorize the important ones. There's no point in arguing; you will be there."

"I have one more problem sir."

"Whatever could that be?"

"I don't have a dress," she answered quietly.

A stunned silence erupted. Kaiba's elegant brows contracted tightly as he stared at the now sheepish woman. His mouth gaped several times, but words failed to drift from it. She continually fascinated and stupefied him, a trait that he was unsure whether to damn or praise. His long fingers massaged his temples briefly before he finally formulated a response.

"I will set up an account totaling forty thousand dollars that you can use to buy whatever clothing you may need for this job. That should solve any problem that arises in the future. And because of this, there is no reason that you should not have a top of the line dress. Keep it classy but don't get too extravagant with it. Remember you are a secretary. You must dress the part."

"Th-Thank you, sir," she whispered in awe.

"Now go. You've caused enough trouble for one day."

She chose not to argue, opting instead for a slight head nod. Kaiba watched her closely as she stalked out. He was pleased at his repairs, for his dignity was still intact and the tension had disappeared. He had not needed her at the ball. He knew already who would be attending, but it seemed that she intended to stay. He would be able to truly measure her long-term worth in the setting. If she failed, then he would be forced to continue his endless pursuit of a component assistant. He was uncomfortable with the thought of her failing for an unknown reason, likely because it would lead to his humiliation if she did. At least this is how he rationalized it. If she happened to succeed, she would gain exposure and credibility with some of the richest, most powerful men in the world, a prospect that would lessen his own workload. He leaned back in his chair, sipping gingerly on his flask, hoping to calm his nerves. Why they need calmed he was still struggling to discern.


	4. Chapter 4

Reyna had spent most of her spare time over the last three days scouring local shops for a suitable dress, a search that had left her in near panic. She had allotted even more time to memorizing the names and faces of the upper echelon of bureaucrats and corporate sharks that would be patrolling tonight's venue. It was mere hours before Kaiba was supposed to retrieve her, and the last time that she had felt so unprepared was her sophomore year of college. Names and faces were blurring and switching as she rapidly recited them. Kaiba had been shoving tests onto her since she first walked into his office a month, and she had completed each one with ease. Now, on her final challenge, would she stumble humiliatingly?

She could not say that she enjoyed her job. The long hours and mind numbing work were well inferior to her abilities, but there was a precarious, masochistic feeling of comfort that she could vaguely discern creeping into her body when she was in the presence of her boss. In spite of the wavering status of their relationship, there was a unique and faint solidarity that they occasionally mustered, stemming from the long hours and sleep deprivation. His attitude toward her had visibly curbed since she assumed her position, morphing from sharp cactus spines to pine needles.

None of these things were helping her cope with the impending failure that awaited her. A violent turmoil settled in her stomach as she prepared her face and hair for high society scrutiny. She had never considered herself beautiful; her friends had always been the ones to attract attention. She supposed that her hard-nosed studies had detracted from her beauty and potential, but it mattered little now. Her reflection seemed incomplete and misplaced; the features were in the wrong proportions and prominences. Traditional beauty standards had never applied to her. There was always a masculine edge to her, from her over-pronounced facial features to her strongly muscled frame, a defect now glaringly obvious as she stared at her completed canvas. Though the make-up and carefully placed strands had softened the hard lines, her face still seemed inadequate. She supposed that it would not matter. As Kaiba had said, she was a secretary; she should not be out shining the women who belonged on their man's arms.

She was startled by a strong knock on her door. Hastily brushing the various beauty products in drawers, she scrambled to the bedroom to locate her shoes. The knocking continued to echo as articles of clothing whirled about the room. She swore loudly, while desperately digging the heels out from beneath a particularly large pile of clothes. She dashed to the front of her small apartment and wretched open the door to find an exquisitely dressed Seto Kaiba, impatiently tapping his foot. She continued to pull on her shoes as she invited him inside. His strict eyes were narrowed and surveying her attire intensively. She awkwardly stood, self-consciously running her hands down the smooth material of her selected dress.

"Did I choose inappropriately?" she asked voice meek and tentative.

Kaiba did not answer. A silken rust sheath closely encased her tall lithe body, leaving a deep v of her chest and the upper half of her back tastefully exposed. The vibrant sheen of the fabric amplified the woman's curves as it cascaded fluidly to the floor. There were no glamorous or adorning features, but the color was bold, much bolder than he would have preferred for her first outing. The warmth of the dress fused with the mahogany glow of her curled locks, creating a brilliant blaze emanating from her figure. The androgynous overtone that she normally possessed was absent. Her harsh features seemed subtle and inviting, lit beautifully by the warm hue of her attire. She would surely be one of the crowning centerpieces at the event.

"Black is always more preferable," he finally replied, forcing a tone of disapproval. "But this will have to suffice for tonight. Now, gather your things. We're late as it is."

"Sir, I couldn't help but notice that the party actually started almost twenty minutes ago."

"Why would I ever show up on time to something where they're taking my money?"

She said nothing more, quickly turning to lock her apartment door. They looked suspicious in their formal attire trekking through the halls of her modest apartment complex. She saw several of her neighbors peering curiously from their doors and windows. It was not often that one of their members was seen in the company of a billionaire. Kaiba did not help the situation. He was committed to maintaining a manly and segregatory silence. For him, this was the routine, fortifying mantra that he used to acclimate himself to a stoic demeanor that he would wear for the remainder of the evening. One moment of fracture could be preyed upon by a competitor and ultimately unravel the entire corporate structure. But such things were to be expected when venturing into a pool of ravenous sharks.

The mood did not improve in the limousine. Roland had been waiting dutifully by the car for them. Reyna smiled graciously at him; she never understood how this man could have remained loyal to the disagreeable CEO for so many years. Roland was an expected accessory whenever Kaiba made a venture into public, usually accompanied by at least two younger, stronger guards. Tonight, the customary brawn was surprisingly absent. The usual motorcade was also missing; only Roland and the driver were accompanying them. At least she had thought. Before Roland could open the door for them, it flew open forcefully. The same shaggy-haired teen that Reyna had met in the Kaiba mansion a week ago was peering out from the darkness of the limo.

"Ugh! What was taking you so long? Do you have any idea how boring it is in here? The least you could do if you're dragging me along to this suit fest is not keep me waiting," the boy whined, throwing his brother an exasperated look.

"You were the one that said you wanted to go, so don't blame me if you're bored. I told you to go run around with the geek squad."

"No matter what you say, you like them and you know it. I don't know what it's going to take to get you to admit it. Besides, I kind of enjoy these stuffy things."

"No. You mean you enjoy flirting with every girl that walks by. You need to be on good behavior tonight. You almost got me into a very embarrassing situation last time."

"Oh come on! All I said was that she looked uncomfortable."

"And that you knew where you could both be more comfortable."

"That's a legitimate statement! What sixteen year old girl wants to hang around with a bunch of horny egotistical business men drooling over her all night?!"

"Yes because being in a room with a horny sixteen year old playboy is much more appealing."

A large smirk played across his face as he gently ruffled his black hair. "She found me charming."

"Her father did not. Now seriously, Mokuba, behave yourself. And get in the damn limo. I want to get in and out of here as fast as I can."

His brother shrugged, ducking quickly back inside the limo. With an exasperated sigh, Kaiba climbed in after him. Reyna hovered at the entrance, unsure whether it was wise to venture into the brotherly war zone. She had hesitated too long; Kaiba was already barking a scolding call to her. With a steadying breath, she stepped into the limo. Mokuba had reclined himself with graceful ease in his seat, the light playing off his angular features as he absently mussed his hair. Unlike his elder brother, Mokuba knew that he was attractive and had long since embraced and honed his skills in maximizing his assets. Despite his pleasant attributes, Kaiba was still like an awkward teenager that needed a makeover to become a blossoming socialite. His incessant sternly set mouth created hard lines and shadows that danced across his face, and the ice in his eyes would never make a woman melt. A complete contrast to his brother's laughing face and warm tropical seas.

"It's Reyna, right?" Mokuba asked suddenly, surveying her. "I know my brother hasn't told you this, so I will. You look very beautiful tonight."

"She's too old for you, Mokuba," Seto snapped adjusting the length of his sleeves.

"What, I can't pay a pretty woman a compliment without wanting to sleep with her?"

"I'd like to think that you could, but I know better."

"The way you talk about me sometimes… You're giving Reyna a bad impression of me."

"You do enough of that for yourself. Honestly, I have no idea how you haven't caught syphilis yet."

"Yeah well if you don't get laid soon, your dick is going to fall off because it atrophied."

"MOKUBA!"

Reyna was completely stunned. This had to be by far the most interestingly awkward situation she had ever encountered. The Kaiba brothers were famous for their intense sibling devotion to one another, stemming from their tumultuous childhood that Kaiba had desperately tried to keep out of the press. The imagery was always the same: the elder stoic Kaiba as the guardian and breadwinner, traveling to hell and back again to fulfill his little brother's every wish; while the younger Kaiba looked up in awe at his brother, vowing to form himself in his image. But here in the privacy of the limo, there was a very different story. The her boss' face was flushed crimson, jaw clenched tight and shaking as his suave brother gazed at him sporting a triumphant smirk. The secret life of the Kaiba's.

"This is precisely the kind of shit that gets you into trouble," Seto hissed, voice trembling slightly. "You can't say this shit in front of other people."

The younger Kaiba rolled his sparkling eyes dramatically. "You're just lucky you don't remember half of your drunken stupors. I watched the security tapes from the other night, and the way it looked, you were practically begging poor Reyna here to have her way with you. Look if you want me to, I'll hop up front and leave you two…"

"ENOUGH!" Seto yelled, slamming his fist into the soft leather upholstery. "I am done! One more word, and I swear that I will have you carted straight home!"

The boy's eyes glazed over instantly, mumbling quietly turning his lifeless eyes to the window. Kaiba glowered at her fiercly, daring her to comment on the familial display. She quickly averted her eyes to her lap, desperately attempting to hide her embarrassment being privy to such a scene. The tension was crushing the wind from her lungs. Of all the obstacles that she had prepared herself to face during her time as Kaiba's secretary, brotherly spats had not been one of them. She helplessly fidgeted with her long fingers, feeling foolish for what she was about to do.

"Sir," she began quietly, eyes still fastidiously studying her digits. "Looking at the guest list, there are only a handful of executives that I think you should visit."

"Good," he growled. "I was in a bad mood before this, and now I just want to go home. Mustang, you'll make the rounds with me until we've paid our dues and then we'll get the hell out of here."

"Yes sir."

"And don't keep your eyes in your lap when speaking to someone. It's just plain rude."

"Sorry, sir," she answered, glancing at him tentatively.

The fight had suddenly fled his countenance. He sat slightly slumped against the seat, steering his looks clear of his sulking brother. He leaned heavily against the window, shielding his eyes with his hand, but she had seen the shame gleaning in them. With each passing minute, his humiliation began rolling off of him in subtle ways. Mokuba was still leering out the window, raging as a tempest at the passing scenery. The ride was quiet except for the ringing hum of the car as it ambled along the road.

It was some time before they finally arrived at the benefit. It was being held at the city art museum, its decorations dripping with gold and crowded with paintings and statues. A long scarlet carpet and golden rope lined the aisle leading the processional of the rich and famous into the grand entrance of the museum. Mokuba had immediately slid from the car, shifting his face from a gloomy storm back to its animated, glowing state. He smiled radiantly the other guests and reporters as he sashayed down the aisle, disappearing into the growing crowd inside. Kaiba followed with his usual air of frigid indifference, never once acknowledging the myriad of reporters casting questions hopefully at him. Reyna drifted along elegantly just behind his shoulders, reenacting her best impression of her boss' expression.

"You will forget what you heard in the limo," Kaiba stated simply, passing through the entrance. "And never speak of it again."

"Sir, it's none of my business," she responded finally.

"No, it isn't. Now, who do we need to see first?"

The night drug on much longer than Kaiba had intended it to. Their list of required greetings grew no shorter as they were continuously bombarded by lesser executives hoping to schmooze their way into Kaiba Corps affiliations. Most paid no attention to Reyna, who spent the night gliding along behind her boss as a silent guardian, whispering the names of each guest as they cane. Occasionally, she would feel someone's eyes tracing over her form lecherously, but when she would search for the source, none were apparent. She felt oddly strong flanking the young executive as he circuited the room. She was amazed at the manner groups would part as he passed through them; their heads bowed slightly, murmuring their greetings unintelligibly.

Within the first half hour, Kaiba had sent her in search of Scotch, and ordered a fresh glass every twenty minutes. Each time he would request another fill, Reyna would feel a twinge of anxiety stirring uncomfortably in her chest. She was able to suppress the notion long enough to perform her boss' demands, but it would seep slowly from its cage with each sip he took. Finally, while she was fetching his fifth refill, she could not tame the feeling any longer. She ordered a glass of water, and bravely traipsed over to her boss, handing him the clear liquid without a word. He took a sip mindlessly, but upon recognizing its taste, he rounded on her angrily.

"Mustang, what the hell is this?" he growled, locking onto her gaze harshly.

"It's water, sir," she responded simply.

"Did you mishear me when I asked for another glass of Scotch?"

"No sir," she continued, unperturbed. "But they staff is currently fetching more Scotch, so I thought this would substitute in the interim."

"You were wrong," he hissed, pausing slightly as he turned from her. "Look, go bother someone else for awhile. Make sure my brother is keeping himself out of trouble."

"Of course, sir," she answered evenly despite gritting her teeth.

He watched her from the corner of his eye as she glided quietly into the crowd, her orange dress providing a nice beacon for all willing followers. He was not alone in his observations; several of the other executives were stalking the young woman as she assumed her position hovering behind his brother, who was entertaining a gaggle of smiling girls. He balled his hands into shaking fists as he prepared himself for the next attack.

"My, my, Kaiba-boy, that sure is one unflappable girl you've got there," a feminine voice drawled behind him.

"Pegsus," he snarled, turning to face his nemesis.

The American had not changed one bit; his silver hair still obscured side where his Millenium Eye had once rested, and he still wore the same effeminate, ruffled clothing that was more suited for 18th century France. He smiled amiably at Kaiba, who could envision nothing better than severing his head with only his hands and watching gleefully as he bled to death slowly. Sensing the younger man's fury, Pegasus altered his tactics.

"Come now, you can't really still be harboring a grudge against little old me," he began, dramatically placing his hand over his chest. "Our little spat was ages ago! And besides, everything that was taken from you was restored!"

"You kidnapped my little brother and threw him in a cell in that little fantasy island of yours!" Kaiba barked, taking a threatening step closer. "And you expect me to forget it?"

"Well, he's not so little anymore is he Kaiba-boy," the older man mused, glancing in Mokuba's direction.

"Leave him alone," he responded with deadly edge.

"Look, it's not as though I can capture his soul or anything anymore. That whacko thief Bakura plucked out my Millenium Eye ages ago."

He chuckled as Kaiba gave a violent start at the mention of soul stealing. "What's a matter, Kaiba-boy? Still haven't accepted the Occult yet? I'm surprised at you. I know you're stubborn, but even you can't deny some of the evidence you've seen. The Millenium items, the mind-slaving boy possessed by an ancient spirit, that whole Orichalcos business, the real monsters, and I heard you even had a little visit to ancient Egypt."

"Enough! What do you actually want?"

"Is it not enough to want to stop and say hi to an old friend?"

"Not with you it isn't," he finished, preparing to storm towards Mokuba.

"Wait, Kaiba!" Pegasus exclaimed, latching on tightly to his arm. "I know you and I have had our altercations in the past, but I really would like to bury the hatchet here. I came all this way to tell you that I have some information that I think you would like to know about your step father. Please, Kaiba, just hear me out."

"No thanks. Last time I heard you out, I had to be saved by Yugi and his loser friends. Stay away from my brother and me. And the girl too."

He wrenched his arm from the man's tight grasp, straightening his suit back to its acceptable state. He threw one last dagger at him before tromping off. Their exchange had drawn the attention of the party-goers, and Mokuba was looking on in worry and confusion. The boy quickly made his apologies, giving one last charming smile to the beautiful girls he had been amusing, and forcibly drug a stumbling Reyna to his seething brother. Kaiba's normal icy countenance was disheveled, and his eyes kept darting around the room, searching for some unseen to lunge from the crowd. He ran his hand anxiously across his handsome face, quickly extracting his phone from his jacket pocket and barking at Roland to bring the car to the front quickly.

"What did he want?" Mokuba asked darkly, glowering at the now mingling eccentric executive.

"I'm not sure, but we're leaving. Now."

"Good idea," he responded and followed his brother's hurried strides. "What is he even doing in Japan? I though that he had all but shut down his branches here."

"He said some crap about having information about our stepfather."

"Gozaburo? But what the hell could he know?! Didn't he get trapped in that virtual world when Noah made it self-destruct?"

"I have no clue, Mokuba, but to be on the safe side, I'm going to Kaiba Corp. Then you and Mustang will go home."

Roland jumped eagerly out of the car and opened the door for the trio. He was still wearing his sunglasses, despite the fact that the sun had retired several hours earlier. Reyna knew that behind those shaded lenses he was scanning the street and the crowd thoroughly. She gave him a small smile as she ducked gracefully into the car. The brothers had resumed staring off in opposite directions, each one immersed in their own thoughts. Mokuba's face frequently fluctuated from worried and confused to angry and then something would cloud his eyes, some long buried memory clawing its way mercilessly to the surface. The boy would shake his head occasionally, as though the thoughts could be physically erased by the motion alone. Kaiba was the exact opposite. He had managed to tame his nerves inside the confines of the limo. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, calculating every possible reason and outcome, but his face no longer betrayed his emotions. To see him now one would think that he was merely solving a math problem on a school exam.

The car shortly stopped in front of Kaiba Corp, and Kaiba wasted no time in exiting the car.

"Don't wait up, Mokuba," he shot over his shoulder.

The door slammed, and both the remaining occupants flinched at the sound. A sad expression washed over his face as he watched his brother's shrinking back. He resumed absently toying with his untamed mane. Reyna offered him a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure he won't be nearly as late as he thinks he will be," she said, forcing optimism into her voice.

"Yes he will be," he responded distantly. "If he's home by tomorrow afternoon, I'll be impressed. He can be a bit obsessive when it comes to people who've crossed him in the past. Not that I blame him necessarily. Not after what Pegasus did…

"On another note, I'm sorry that you had to see our little fight earlier. Sometimes my brother really just can't take a joke. I guess I did go a little far this time."

"Does it happen often?"

"Well, yeah. Mostly because I make it my personal goal in life to get a rise out of him. It's not that I want him to get mad. I really just want him to genuinely laugh at something. Usually the only time he does laugh it's mocking someone. It's a sad thing that I like to see my brother when he's drunk because he acts normal. You saw him."

"Yes, I did," she answered uncertainly. "But I'm really not sure on what planet that is considered normal."

The boy laughed heartily. "I like you. You can act like a total robot from outer space around my brother, but you're actually pretty socially adept. Seto really only knows how to talk to underlings… Well, he knows how to bark at underlings. But that's just because he had to do it to survive. Our stepfather was anything but easy on him. Seto made a really big sacrifice to keep the two of us together, and I'm grateful for that. Sometimes, though, I'm not certain that we weren't better off staying at the orphanage."

Reyna was silent for a moment, staring at the young man's troubled face. "How long has he been drinking like that?"

"Since he quit playing Duel Monsters," he responded, sadness deepening. "I really don't know why he quit. I'm pretty sure it wasn't something that he wanted to do."

"Maybe he thought he wouldn't be taken seriously as a businessman if he didn't," she offered.

"No. I don't think that's it at all. He never cared before, and that's when it mattered most. He was my age when he took over Kaiba Corp, and if he was worried about appearing professional then would have been the time to worry about it. I think this all traces back to him losing. Duel Monsters really kept him grounded through some pretty rough times in his life. It was something he strived to be good at for his own sake, not because someone was forcing him too. And he was the best in the world at one time. I think that when he lost to Yugi, and kept losing, he lost faith in himself. Hard to believe with all that swaggering about he does in those ridiculous coats."

She could not help but laugh loudly. It escaped past her lips before she could harness, and once loose it refused to stop. Mokuba grinned widely.

"I mean, seriously!" he continued emphatically. "Have you seen those things? They have horns on the shoulders! And on the butts too! And what's with those stupid metal gauntlets that he insists on putting over them? It's not ok to have to take a screwdriver to your wardrobe in order to take it off! That's probably why he doesn't get laid. He doesn't have enough time to get naked. At least he mostly stopped wearing those things to the office."

Reyna was howling in laughter, her deep sounds echoing around the inside of the car. Despite her best efforts, she simply could not control the fits that were currently controlling her body. Mokuba smiled happily at his handiwork. _If only Seto could see her now… She's going to give him a good spin around before all is said and done, _he thought. The woman was slowly resurrecting her lost composure, wiping her eyes where tears had started to form. Her laughter still danced brightly in her eyes. They had been so absorbed in their conversation they had failed to notice the car slowing at the entrance of Reyna's towering apartment building.

"Miss Mustang," Roland said, opening the door for her escape. "We are here."

"Thank you, Roland," she replied, still fighting the racking fits threatening to start again. "And thank you, Mokuba, for such a pleasant and enlightening ride home."

"My pleasure!" he answered. "Hey, Reyna. Look, I know my brother is impossible at best and a complete asshole at his worst, but he really doesn't always mean to be. I know you won't believe me, but Seto is a really good guy. He's just heaped a huge layer of jackass over to try and get through this cut throat world he lives in. Just be patient and give him a chance."

"A chance for what?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"A chance to get to know him better. You might like what you find."

"He's my boss, Mokuba. A relationship like that would be unprofessional to say the least."

"I'm not saying sleep with him! Although God knows he needs it. It's just… Seto doesn't have anyone to talk to about anything. He's too busy trying to protect me to really open up, but maybe he can eventually treat you as an equal."

"Uh huh.." she began doubtfully. "Does he understand what that is?"

"Who knows?" Mokuba replied chuckling. "Anyway, good night gorgeous maiden! Enjoy sleeping in tomorrow!"

She waved at them absently as they drove off. _Why did I have to end up with an emotionally troublesome boss with no friends?_


End file.
